Secret of the Gargoyles (Gargoyle Guardian Chronicles Book 3) Read Online Free Page A

blocks, a fresh wellspring of gargoyle-enhanced magic burst open inside me. The unexpected gush of available magic repeatedly caught me off guard, tripping me mentally and physically even though I should have been used to it by now. Ever since the incident in Focal Park, gargoyles had started providing magic boosts for me whenever I was in range, whether or not I was using the elements at the time. Since gargoyles were particular about who they enhanced and typically didn’t attempt to boost an elemental who wasn’t actively using magic, it was flattering. Oliver claimed it was a sign of respect for a guardian, but up until today, I’d dismissed his explanation as a by-product of his hero worship. I couldn’t help but notice that with Celeste accompanying us, the frequency of the boosts had increased threefold, as if her presence added weight to my reputation.
    I acknowledged the offerings with waves and nods to the serious gargoyles who watched us pass from their high perches, for the first time in a long time feeling worthy of their favor. I had a real plan to help the comatose gargoyles, not just desperate hopes and ineffective remedies. Thinking about Reaper’s Ridge, I amended the thought: I had a plan and desperate hopes.
    Oliver was the only one of us who’d ever been to the squad’s home base, so he led the way. None of us spoke as we left behind the bustle of downtown and climbed the gentle hills on the east side of Terra Haven. Enormous mansions jutted along the tops of the rolling crests, but we turned onto a flagstone pathway halfway up a slope and stopped in front of a bright yellow two-story stucco house with a nine-foot-tall wooden door. Celeste flew up to the roof, landing soundlessly on the terra-cotta tiles and disappearing. I steeled myself and knocked.
    No one answered. I waited a minute, counting the seconds as they passed, then tried again, pounding the iron knocker against the wood with all my strength. Eleven seconds later, the door burst open and Marcus Velasquez loomed over me. I fell back a step, then caught myself. Cold blue eyes burned into me, and a muscle bunched in his anvil of a jaw. Recognition dawned a second later, and the rugged fire elemental’s intimidating pose relaxed fractionally, but his forbidding expression didn’t alter. Without saying anything, he crossed his tan arms over his chest—a move that emphasized his thick biceps and wide shoulders—and leaned against one side of the door frame, obviously waiting for me to speak.
    A flurry of bubbles rioted in my stomach.
    “I . . . Is Grant here?” I squeaked.
    Sometime during the catastrophe at Focal Park, I’d developed a crush on Marcus. The last time I’d seen him, I’d even convinced myself that he was interested in me, too. But I’d been too busy hunting for a cure for the dormant gargoyles to devise a casual way to bump into him and reassess my feelings for him under more normal circumstances—like when he wasn’t saving my life—and he’d never sought me out. After a few months, I decided I’d made everything up, my crush included.
    Up until five seconds ago, I’d believed myself, too.
    “Hi to you, too, Mika Stillwater.” His deep voice rolled through me.
    “Hi, uh, Marcus.” I flushed. Get over yourself . You’re not here to ask him out. You’re here to help Rourke and the other gargoyles.
    “Hi, Marcus,” Oliver said.
    “Hey, Oliver.” The gargoyle got a small smile.
    “Is Grant here?” I managed to get the words out without sounding strangled this time. Bully for me.
    Those cool blue eyes fastened on me again, and I wondered what had ever made me think he might have been interested in me. It’d clearly all been a euphoric side effect of my near-death experiences. Marcus was an accomplished fire elemental in an FPD squad. He was so far out of my league he may as well have been on another continent.
    “He’s out.”
    “Seradon?” I asked. The squad’s earth elemental had liked me.